The Situation: Ah, the beauty of New Hampshire's White Mountains. In the spring and summer there's plenty to bring the toursists in, from hiking Mt. Washington to exploring places like The Flume or the Polar Caves. Autumn brings the leaf peepers, come to see the mountains bathed in lovely reds, golds, and oranges. Come winter these mountains become just one of many places in New England to go skiing, snowboarding, or even snowmobiling. Yes, the White Mountains are a year round attraction.
This was what the Tremont family had in mind when they opened up the Cannon Inn. Named for Cannon Mt., the inn is located just a few miles north of that mountain. Mike Tremont was a little overwhelmed with how popular his inn became a mere few short years after it opened. Yet this didn't stop him from advertising it rather heavily this year. And as the forecasters were saying it looked like this winter would see the most snow the area had seen in years, making it a perfect time to get away to have some winter fun, Mike quickly started advertising his inn as the perfect destination for skiers and snowboarders. The fact that Cannon Inn would run shuttle services to all major ski areas in the White Mountains, not just those in Franconia Notch.
Pretty soon, the inn is kept busy as folks choose it as their place to stay while in the mountians for some fun skiing or snowboarding. Mike is enjoying his time as host to all the guests. Yet that enjoyment is shattered when his wife recieves word that her mother isn't doing to well. She quickly flies down to Rhode Island to be with her. With Christmas fast approaching, their kids are getting more than a little upset that their mom won't be home for Christmas. Like it or not, Mike packs up the car, kids and all, and heads down to Rhode Island. He leaves his younger brother Jonhathn, the inn's assistant manager, in charge for the next two weeks.
Then, just two days after Christmas, the worst thing Jonh could expect happens. A blizzard hits the area, snowing everyone in. John knows there's little chance anyone will be getting out soon. And with the way it's still coming down out there, he wonders how long it will be before they can get out at all. He quickly takes stock of things. With a hundred guests and a staff of twenty, they have enough food to last three months, if need be. The basement is filled with a six month supply of wood, more than enough to keep all the rooms warm and to cook with. He goes through everything, trying to make sure they are more than prepared for this.
OOC: Ok, that's the situation. I ask folks to give their character names and some info on the characters before they join in. I'll be playing John Tremont.
Name: Johnathn Tremont
Age: 34
Height: 6'1"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Sandy brown
Physical Description: Full beard that gives him an outdoorsy image, which his routine camping trips tend to back up. He's just muscalar enough to suggest he had something to do with the wood in the basement. While during the summer he tends to wear jeans, hiking boots, and a t-shirt, in the winter he trades his t-shirt in for some heavy flanel shirts, usually bright reads. He tends to wear a brown steson hat whenever he's outside. His right upper arm carrys a scare from a fight he got in in his early twenties, a fight he rarely, if ever, talks about.
IC:
"Ok, backup generator has plenty of fuel to last for maybe a month if the power goes out. Maybe two if we don't use it that much. Boiler's backup has enough fuel to last a month as well, maybe we can syphon off some of it for the inn's backup if need be. After all, we have more than enough wood to keep this place warm. The oil lamps have a years worth of oil, and we've got more than enough candles, so we don't have to worry about lighting. That should help us to cut back on the fuel the backup uses." I quickly check the phone to see if it's still working. Much to my relief, the storm hasn't yet knocked out the phone lines. For the hundredth time I wish I'd insisted a little harder that Mike run the phone lines underground as he'd done with the power lines. "At least we can still call out. Don't know if a cell will get a signal through this shit."
I look around the lobby, amazed at how deserted it is at this hour. Most of the guests still haven't gotten up yet, so they don't know how bad things are out there. Only a few of them are down here staring out at the solid white wall outside. A couple of the maids are busy trying to calm the guests down, but it's obvious their just as worried as I am.
This was what the Tremont family had in mind when they opened up the Cannon Inn. Named for Cannon Mt., the inn is located just a few miles north of that mountain. Mike Tremont was a little overwhelmed with how popular his inn became a mere few short years after it opened. Yet this didn't stop him from advertising it rather heavily this year. And as the forecasters were saying it looked like this winter would see the most snow the area had seen in years, making it a perfect time to get away to have some winter fun, Mike quickly started advertising his inn as the perfect destination for skiers and snowboarders. The fact that Cannon Inn would run shuttle services to all major ski areas in the White Mountains, not just those in Franconia Notch.
Pretty soon, the inn is kept busy as folks choose it as their place to stay while in the mountians for some fun skiing or snowboarding. Mike is enjoying his time as host to all the guests. Yet that enjoyment is shattered when his wife recieves word that her mother isn't doing to well. She quickly flies down to Rhode Island to be with her. With Christmas fast approaching, their kids are getting more than a little upset that their mom won't be home for Christmas. Like it or not, Mike packs up the car, kids and all, and heads down to Rhode Island. He leaves his younger brother Jonhathn, the inn's assistant manager, in charge for the next two weeks.
Then, just two days after Christmas, the worst thing Jonh could expect happens. A blizzard hits the area, snowing everyone in. John knows there's little chance anyone will be getting out soon. And with the way it's still coming down out there, he wonders how long it will be before they can get out at all. He quickly takes stock of things. With a hundred guests and a staff of twenty, they have enough food to last three months, if need be. The basement is filled with a six month supply of wood, more than enough to keep all the rooms warm and to cook with. He goes through everything, trying to make sure they are more than prepared for this.
OOC: Ok, that's the situation. I ask folks to give their character names and some info on the characters before they join in. I'll be playing John Tremont.
Name: Johnathn Tremont
Age: 34
Height: 6'1"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Sandy brown
Physical Description: Full beard that gives him an outdoorsy image, which his routine camping trips tend to back up. He's just muscalar enough to suggest he had something to do with the wood in the basement. While during the summer he tends to wear jeans, hiking boots, and a t-shirt, in the winter he trades his t-shirt in for some heavy flanel shirts, usually bright reads. He tends to wear a brown steson hat whenever he's outside. His right upper arm carrys a scare from a fight he got in in his early twenties, a fight he rarely, if ever, talks about.
IC:
"Ok, backup generator has plenty of fuel to last for maybe a month if the power goes out. Maybe two if we don't use it that much. Boiler's backup has enough fuel to last a month as well, maybe we can syphon off some of it for the inn's backup if need be. After all, we have more than enough wood to keep this place warm. The oil lamps have a years worth of oil, and we've got more than enough candles, so we don't have to worry about lighting. That should help us to cut back on the fuel the backup uses." I quickly check the phone to see if it's still working. Much to my relief, the storm hasn't yet knocked out the phone lines. For the hundredth time I wish I'd insisted a little harder that Mike run the phone lines underground as he'd done with the power lines. "At least we can still call out. Don't know if a cell will get a signal through this shit."
I look around the lobby, amazed at how deserted it is at this hour. Most of the guests still haven't gotten up yet, so they don't know how bad things are out there. Only a few of them are down here staring out at the solid white wall outside. A couple of the maids are busy trying to calm the guests down, but it's obvious their just as worried as I am.
